


Like Someone In Love

by angrywitchpolice



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, It's pure, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Second War with Voldemort, They Adopt a Kitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26584855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrywitchpolice/pseuds/angrywitchpolice
Summary: What happens when Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are paired as Auror partners during their training?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 104





	Like Someone In Love

"And here are your training partner assignments. Remember, you'll be studying, training and living together for the rest of your training." The Auror trainer handed everyone a paper with their assignment and Ministry provided address. Harry mentally groaned when he looked at his — _Draco L. Malfoy._

After testifying at Draco's trial, they agreed to move past their differences from school and they were civil, even friendly when they saw each other. Harry actually convinced Draco to become an Auror, and now they were going to be partners.

Draco swaggered over to Harry after reading his paper.

"Guess we're partners now." Draco smiled at Harry

"Thought the last time that would happen was Potions class," Harry chuckled.

"Alright. Classes start proper tomorrow. Your things have been moved to your new addresses. I suggest you settle in tonight." The trainer left as the trainees began apparating to their respective locations.

"Shall we?" Draco cockily held out his arm. Harry rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a smile, and took it as they apparated away.

Harry was actually glad they were able to move past their old rivalry. He felt terrible about what had happened before and during the war. They talked over drinks at a Muggle bar after Draco's trial, both men apologizing for their mistakes throughout school. Harry still felt guilty for the _sectumsempra_ curse but Draco repeatedly told him to not worry about it. Draco, in turn, kept apologizing for his actions in the war until Harry convinced him to start Auror training. Both were grateful for the forgiveness of the other man, but neither would speak of it.

They appeared in front of a two-story townhouse on a Muggle street.

"After you, my dear," Draco smirked, causing Harry to roll his eyes again.

The flat was small and sparsely decorated. The door opened into a hall with a kitchen to the left and a living room next to it. The living room was painted with grey walls and a sturdy fireplace with a hefty supply of floo powder sat against one wall. Two black couches faced each other and a full bookshelf sat behind one of them. The kitchen was fully stocked with kitchenware and some food basics.

The stairs at the end of the hall led to the two bedrooms and bathroom upstairs. The bedrooms were identical - double bed, wardrobe full of Auror gear, a desk and chair and a trunk at the end of the bed. The only notable difference in the bedrooms were the sheets — one scarlet and one emerald. Harry snickered to himself when he noticed, taking the room with the green sheets just to be a pain in the arse.

"Really, Potter? Thought you'd want the Gryffindor colours." Draco leaned casually in the doorway, smiling at Harry as he unpacked his trunk. Harry looked up, meeting Draco's eyes and smiled.

"Decided to change it up a bit," He chuckled.

The first argument happened that night when both men went to take a shower at the same time.

"I should shower at night so my hair is dry when I wake up!" Draco said, walking past Harry to the bathroom. Harry stuck his foot out enough to trip Draco and earn him a scowl.

"Well, what if I'm particularly sweaty after training one night?" Harry countered.

"Then shower after me!" Draco threw his hands up dramatically. "I'm showering at night, Potter."

"Fine, Malfoy!" Harry yelled back. They stood there, staring at each other breathlessly before Draco started laughing quietly. Within a few moments, both men were paralyzed with laughter. Draco leaned against the wall while Harry stood doubled over with his hands on his knees. How foolish it seemed after everything they had gone through — arguing about the showering schedule. Once they caught their breath, Draco smiled before turning back to the bathroom.

Another argument broke out over what to eat for dinner.

"Come on, Malfoy! I don't feel like cooking and you don't know how to!" Harry leaned against the counter, jacket in hand.

"Potter! I want a proper meal! Not some half-assed Muggle meal in a Styrofoam container!" Draco yelled, flailing his arms about as he paced the kitchen. Harry pressed his hand to his temple.

"I'm not cooking! I'm getting takeaway, so you can either come with me or starve." Draco stopped and glared at Harry. Draco knew he was right — he didn't know how to cook and he was quite hungry after the day he had.

"Fine," Draco muttered, almost incoherently, as he stared at the wall.

"What was that?" Harry smirked. Draco groaned and turned to Harry.

"Fine! You win Potter!" He threw his arms up in defeat.

"Come on." Harry slipped on his jacket and headed towards the door.

"Aren't we going to Apparate?" Harry turned and gave him an incredulous look.

"Malfoy, there's a chippys like a block away. You can walk." Draco huffed, putting on his own jacket and following Harry. They walked in silence for a few minutes until they reached a kebab shop. Draco scrunched his nose.

"This place?" He scoffed. "It's entirely red inside! Surely their food can't be that good." The man behind the counter heard Draco and shot him a quick glare.

"Malfoy, just try it alright," Harry huffed, grabbing Draco's elbow and dragging him in.

"Two chicken kebabs, two sides of salted chips and two cokes."

"Fifteen pounds." Harry handed over the money while Draco suspiciously eyed the shop.

"Malfoy," Harry hissed as Draco ran his finger across the counter and grimaced.

"Right, sorry," He muttered, wiping his hand on his trousers. Harry took the two boxes.

"Grab the cans," Harry nudged Draco. Harry handed off one of the boxes as they stepped outside. "Alright, try it." Draco scrunched his nose again.

"Here? On the street?"

"That's the fun of chippys," Harry took the fork out of the top of the box and dove in. "You eat it while walking." Draco watched, scowling still, but slowly followed suit.

"Potter, this is not proper in any way—"

"Get used to it Malfoy. Proper is just another word for no fun." Draco shot Harry a look before taking a bite.

"This is... really good!" Draco smiled and took another bite while Harry laughed.

"Come on now, let's walk."

It continued like this for a few months. They'd argue almost every day over something small — "Put your books away, Potter", "For Heaven's sake Malfoy, turn down the heat" — but they would always end laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Throughout the first few weeks, they developed a routine — Draco almost always woke up first, putting the kettle on before waiting for Harry to make breakfast. The few times Harry woke up first, he made them pancakes instead of oatmeal for breakfast. They'd floo to training after Harry yelled at Draco for five minutes, assuring him his hair looked fine, and Draco yelling back that fine wasn't good enough. They'd travel home after training and decide what was for dinner, Harry sometimes cooking, Draco sometimes getting take-away, or, on the rare occasion, Harry trying to teach Draco how to cook, which almost always ended in something burning or, at the very least, a massive mess. After dinner, they'd sit in the lounge on separate sofas reading books for their courses, Draco draped elegantly across the couch while Harry folded himself awkwardly. Draco would enjoy a cup of tea before going to shower while Harry knocked back a beer. Harry would say goodnight as he'd walk past a freshly showered Draco in just his towel, who'd always blush but duck into his room before the former could notice.

Both men suffered from nightmares and would wake up in cold sweats during the nights. Most of the time, they weren't bad enough to wake the other. However, once in a while, one would have to shake the other awake to make sure they were alright. Harry had the tendency to toss and turn and react quickly when he was woken up, which Draco learned one night when he heard a ruckus in Harry's room and went to check on him. When he opened the door, he saw Harry thrashing around in his bed.

"Potter! Potter!" Draco called out and tried to shake him awake. Harry woke up the moment Draco's hand touched his shoulder and instinctively threw a punch in his general direction. "Fuck!" Draco yelped, stumbling back and holding his jaw. _Even half-asleep, Potter can throw a good right hook._

"What the- shit! Malfoy! What are you doing?" Harry sat up in bed, fumbling to put his glasses on in the dim light.

"You were banging around in here so I came to make sure you were alright!" Draco chuckled and rubbed his jaw.

"Shit, I'm sorry. It was just a nightmare. I built up those instincts when we were horcrux hunting. Are you alright?" Harry got out of bed.

"Yeah, don't worry about it." Draco put a hand up, stopping Harry in his tracks. "You'll be a great Auror with those instincts." He smiled.

"Thanks." Harry nodded. They stood there for a moment, silence filling the space between them.

"You alright?" Draco finally asked.

"Yeah, like I said, nightmare." Harry sat on the bed. Silence again.

"You want to talk about it?" Draco asked quietly.

"Er, no, no it's alright. I'll be fine." Harry smiled tightly.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good." 

"Okay." Draco walked back to the door and paused. "I'm just next door if you want or need anything."

"Thanks." Draco left but Harry couldn't lay back down. His heart was still beating in his throat. Draco also remained awake for the rest of that night, unable to get the look of fear on Harry's face out of his mind.

A week or two later, Harry woke up to yelling coming from Draco's room. He instantly grabbed his wand and rushed in, quietly opening the door. He lowered his wand when he realised there was no one else in the room — Draco was the one screaming. He was lying nearly still on his back, yelling random things.

"No! Stop! It's not— Argh!" Harry dropped his wand and ran over to the bed, shaking Draco.

"Malfoy! Malfoy wake up!" Draco's eyes opened wide and he sat straight up, breathing heavily. Harry didn't move his hands from Draco's shoulders but sat in front of him.

"Shit," Draco muttered under his breath, bringing a hand to his forehead.

"You alright?" Harry asked quietly. Draco swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, just, er, just a nightmare." He took a deep breath before meeting Harry's eyes. "I'm alright. It happens. I'm sorry I woke you." Draco looked away, feeling his face heat up. He hated seeming weak, especially in front of Harry. Despite their budding friendship, he still viewed Harry as Harry Potter, the boy who defeated Voldemort and changed history. Draco knew that Harry no longer saw him as a Death Eater, and he worked hard to fix his public image — he was truthful at his trial that he only complied to save himself and his family; he did community service as a junior potions master at St. Mungos; he even publicly addressed and apologized for his and his family's actions during the war. Draco wanted to be a strong man, redeeming the Malfoy name after his father nearly destroyed it. That man wasn't supposed to have nightmares that woke up the wizarding world's golden boy.

"It's alright, I'd rather help you than sleep without knowing it." Harry said. Draco thought he sounded genuine, almost too genuine. He wanted to sneer about how he didn't need his pity, but he knew the new Draco he was trying to create wouldn't do that.

"Thank you," Draco whispered.

"I'm right next door too, you know," Harry chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, thank you." Draco nodded and watched Harry leave.

This became a semi-regular occurrence. If Draco had to wake Harry, he'd first try yelling, and if that didn't work, he'd quickly cast _Aguamenti_ to give Harry the cold-bucket-of-water wake-up. Harry would thank him as soon as he dried himself using the hot-air-charm. Draco would ask if there was anything he could do to help and Harry would quickly say no and that he was alright. Draco would leave but not sleep for the rest of the night.

If Harry had to wake up Draco, he'd run in as soon as he heard the screams and shake Draco awake. Often, Draco would have tears streaming down his face and Harry would ask if he could do anything. At first, Draco would wipe his tears silently and shake his head. After one particularly bad night, he just wiped his tears but let Harry stay on his bed. A few nights later, he let Harry hug him, and Draco broke down. He began sobbing into Harry's shoulder, mumbling about how he wasn't good enough and didn't deserve the new life he was given. Harry just held him, rubbing his back and telling him that he was a good person. They stayed there until the sun came out when Draco finally peeled himself off Harry's shoulder and apologized profusely.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I promise." Harry reassured him. Draco nodded and sniffled. Harry made them chocolate chip pancakes and hot cocoa topped with whipped cream and cinnamon — like Molly would make that morning. He was relieved when Draco smiled over the warm mug.

Harry covered the shopping, but Draco enjoyed tagging along and picking up random things off the shelves to throw in the carriage when Harry wasn't paying attention. Draco also began joining Harry on his weekend walks through the park, admiring how the man was so content just walking and humming to himself. Harry tried every weekend to get Draco to go out to the pubs with him, and every time Draco would complain about there being too many people but would agree after Harry promised not to leave him. They'd go to a few local bars and sometimes a club, before stumbling for a late-night chippys and eventually collapsing in a fit of giggles on their couches. They'd wake up with headaches and Draco would groan theatrically as Harry would make his famous hangover cure.

One Friday night when they decided to stay in, while taking the rubbish out, Harry found a small black kitten with white paws next to the bin.

"Hey little guy," Harry mumbled as he picked up the kitten. "Draco! Look what I found!" Harry called as he walked back in.

"What is it, Potter?" Draco groaned, standing from his very comfortable position on the couch.

"Look!" Harry said with as much enthusiasm as a kid on Christmas morning, holding up the kitten. Draco's eyes widened and he started shaking his head.

"No," He muttered. "Absolutely not."

"Malfoy, it supposed to rain all night. Just for tonight and I'll take him to a shelter tomorrow." Harry pouted and held the kitten up to his face, who let out a quiet mew. "Please?" Draco huffed and threw up his arms.

"Fine." He turned into the kitchen. "I need a drink," He muttered to no one in particular.

And many a drink he had that night until he was draped across the couch in a less than elegant way watching Harry play with the tiny kitten. He fell asleep with his head nearly falling off the couch. 

Harry also fell asleep on his couch, but when he woke up, the kitten was no longer on his chest. He groggily sat up, frantically looking for the tiny creature until he saw a sight on the other couch he'd never forget — Draco Malfoy, with his limbs splayed out across the black leather, and a tiny black and white heap of fur peacefully sleeping on his chest. Harry shuffled off to his room to retrieve a Polaroid camera and take a picture of the ridiculously cute scene.

Of course, he didn't show Draco the picture but gently woke him up with a mug of hangover cure. Draco wouldn't let Harry go to the shelter that day. Instead, he forced Harry to take him to the pet shop to pick out a bright green collar, plush white bed and more toys than he'd ever seen Dudley open on his birthday. Draco nearly pranced to the tag machine to get a silver heart-shaped tag with 'Mittens' written in cursive.

"Mittens? Really?" Harry laughed as Draco attached the tag to the collar.

"It looks like he's wearing little mittens!"

"That's so basic!"

"I don't fucking care!"

After that, Harry woke up every morning to the sound cat food being poured in a metal dish that always made him smile. He'd stumble down the stairs and greet Draco with a sleepy smile as Draco handed him a mug of steaming tea. Instead of studying as soon as they got home, Draco would play with Mittens while Harry watched from his own couch, lazily sipping on tea. Their nightmares were less frequent but more troubling when they did happen. Harry began opening up more about them, sitting with Draco into the late hours. Draco began the habit of first waking Harry, then making them both tea as they talked. Harry would hold Draco as long as he needed, reminding him that he's a good person until Draco would numbly nod, then he'd make Draco's special breakfast. Draco would apologize and thank him the rest of the day as Harry reminded him he had no need to.

Now months into their training, they both began coming across more complicated topics in their books. Harry would groan every time a new difficult potion was brought up, causing Draco to look up and ask if he needed help. Harry would deny it, but by Harry's third or fourth quiet, heavy sigh, he'd join the dark-haired man on his couch to talk through the potion with him. Draco, on the other hand, asked for Harry's help when he came across difficult transfiguration or defensive spells, and Harry would join him on his couch. Usually, they would return to their own couches, but one night Draco could not be bothered to move back, so he shifted to one end of the couch and lazily threw his arm over the top.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, staring at him. Draco looked up from his book and raise an eyebrow.

"I'm studying Potter." He looked back down to his book coolly. Harry watched him before stammering out:

"This is my couch!"

As soon as the words left his mouth he heard how ridiculous they sounded. Draco scoffed.

"Really Potter? I thought we were sharing this flat." He looked back up to smirk at Harry but ended up smiling at his preposterous expression.

"Right," Harry mumbled, turning back to his own book.

This became the new norm — once one of them moved to the other's couch, they would just stay there. After helping each other, they'd shift back to opposite ends, Draco's arm draped over the back of the couch. His long fingers almost brushed Harry's shoulder. Harry was hyper-aware of this, always making him flush slightly. Occasionally, Mittens would join them in the space between them, effectively distracting them from their work and usually leading to abandoned books and a very happy cat. 

Eventually, they stopped shifting so far from each other, opting to stay next to each other. They were careful not to touch each other if they could help it, but on the rare occasion, Draco's hand would pass over Harry's when pointing something out or Harry's elbow would bump Draco's or when they accidentally sat too close and their knees would touch, both men would feel a hot flush rise to their cheeks and would turn away before the other could notice. Draco would cover the sudden dryness of his mouth with a light cough and Harry would scrunch his nose and fiddle with his glasses in an attempt to refocus on the book in his lap. Neither man would speak of this but rather had a silent agreement that less touching was better.

Harry's muggle tendencies began wearing off on Draco. First, he commented on Harry's love for sweatpants, saying he could never understand the appeal until he had no clean trousers on one laundry day and had to borrow a pair. The next day, he went out and bought seven pairs for himself, all different colours. Harry would always giggle to himself when Draco colour-coordinated his loungewear. However, due to Draco's lithe figure, none of the sweats fit quite right around the waist and tended to slip a little low for Harry's liking. It was distracting when, on one particular night, he was teaching Draco how to cook a steak and he could see the slight strip of pale midriff when Draco would reach for a plate. He tried to keep his focus on the pan but cursed under his breath when he burnt one side of the steak. Draco looked over in hearing the slight curse and frowned.

"I'm sure it'll still taste good," He comforted as Harry frantically looked for a way to improve the steak. Draco looked over Harry's shoulder and Harry couldn't help but shiver at the tickle of Draco's breath on his neck. "Besides," Draco muttered, pulling away and seeing the shivers, "I've burnt plenty of food that you still ate." Harry shook his head and chuckled.

"We had nothing else to eat!"

Not long after, Harry bought himself a record player and began collecting vinyls. His first album was a second-hand copy of Bob Seger's Greatest Hits. Draco watched as Harry took the album out and inspected it for scratches before setting it down on the turntable and starting the music.

"How does that work?" Draco muttered as Harry turned the volume up a bit.

"Something to do with bumps making a sound. Not sure really," He chuckled. He hummed along as Draco watched. Not long after, Draco would ask how to use the record player and started joining Harry on his shopping trips, eventually buying his own records — pretty much anything he could find. His collection ranged from a handful of classical albums to metal to pop to classic rock to disco. Harry will never forget the time he walked in on Draco dancing to ABBA. He thanked Merlin he had his Polaroid nearby to snap a picture before Draco noticed.

Now when they got home, they'd flip a coin to see who would pick out the music for the night. Mittens would occasionally join them, opting to sit next to Draco who would pet him in time to the music. They'd listen to two or three albums before going to bed, Harry occasionally taking breaks from studying to dramatically sing a ballad or dance to an upbeat song. Draco would always roll his eyes first before smiling through Harry's antics. Harry would then collapse next to Draco with a hazy smile on his face. Occasionally, he'd just watch Draco as he read, until Draco would meet his gaze and pink would tinge his cheeks.

"What?" He'd mutter, feeling the heat rise to his face as Harry stared at him with glazed eyes.

"Nothing," Harry would mumble before picking up his book. Draco would silently curse before turning back to his own book. It would take him at least ten minutes before he could focus again.

One night after drinking a bit more than he should have and dancing particularly aggressively to a song, causing Draco to throw his head back laughing, Harry flopped onto the couch, almost sitting on Draco in the process, and leaned his head against Draco's shoulder. Draco felt heat rise to his face as he continued to try to focus on his reading. Harry reached out a finger to point at the picture on the page. He tapped the page, giggled quietly and dropped his hand onto Draco's lap.

"You alright Potter?" Draco asked quietly. He could smell the alcohol on Harry's breath as he giggled.

"I'm great," Harry sighed. He closed his eyes and began dozing off on Draco's shoulder. At that point, Draco set down his book and smiled at the sleeping man. He sat there until the record finished. He debated letting Harry sleep on the couch but ultimately decided to carry Harry to his bed. He thanked Merlin that he was already in wearing sweats and he wouldn't have to strip a drunk, sleepy Potter.

"Come on," He muttered, picking Harry up bridal style. The sleeping man mumbled incoherently and Draco couldn't help but smile. Just as the reached the top of the stairs, Harry opened his eyes.

"What are you doing?" He mumbled with a grin.

"Getting you to bed," Draco grunted. Harry giggled and nuzzled is head into Draco's neck. Draco felt his face heat up again and he brought Harry into his room. As he placed Harry on his bed, Harry wrapped his arm around Draco's neck.

"Mmm, will you stay?" He murmured. Draco paused.

"Sure." He sat on the edge of the bed as Harry laid down, giggling, retreating to his own room once Harry was asleep. He made sure to wake up early to make Harry a hangover cure and silently pray to Merlin Harry didn't remember too much from the night before.

When Draco heard the heavy steps coming down the stairs, he turned around with a mug in his hands but almost dropped it. Sure, he had seen Harry shirtless plenty of times, even when they were living together, but he wasn't expecting a shirtless Harry with his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, revealing almost too much, with his hair a mess and glasses haphazardly strewn on his face. As he lifted his arms to stretch, Harry let out a low groan and Draco nearly squeaked as the sweats dropped a centimetre lower. 

"Morning," Harry mumbled with his gravelly morning voice. Draco shoved the mug into his hands and turned around to hide his flushing face.

"Do you want breakfast?" Draco asked shakily, staring at the hob.

"You never cook," Harry chuckled and sipped from the mug.

"First time for everything," Draco breathed. Only, it wasn't the first time he noticed Harry like that — his tan shoulders as he slipped back into his room after a shower, when he'd stretch on his couch and his shirt would ride up enough to show the strip of skin below his navel, the way he'd bite his lip just before asking Draco for help, how his haired had grown to his shoulders now and was usually tied in a messy bun except for at home. Draco would curse silently each time he'd notice something new about Harry, hating the way he could ignite a pack of butterflies in his stomach. He'd sip whatever drink was in his hand and turn his attention to anywhere but Harry. 

However, it was the first time Draco felt it this deep in his stomach — an odd, tight feeling that made him dizzy and hyper-aware of Harry's eyes boring into the back of his head. It made him quiver with an energy he had never felt before, something deep and scalding. It made his brain foggy and brow sweat ever so slightly. He hated what Harry could do to him by just being there, how he could weaken his knees with just a gaze. He was used to the light flush that would sometimes paint his cheeks when Harry would sit too close and graze his hand, but he always chalked it up to the growing friendship between the men. Now, as he felt his neck heat and face flush, the growing pit in his stomach made him think otherwise.

So he tried to ignore it. Every time Harry's gaze or touch would make him flush. Every time his breath would caress his cheek or hand touch the small of his back as he'd try to move past in the kitchen. He avoided Harry's gaze whenever he could, never noticing the similar flush on Harry's cheeks.

One day during a training session, Draco took a particularly bad hit to the head while duelling and Harry had to take him home.

"Potter, I can walk," Draco laughed as Harry insisted on holding Draco by the waist and draping his thin arm over his broad shoulders.

"Yeah, well I feel bad for knocking you into that wall." Harry eased Draco onto the couch. "Ice? Tea? Pillow? Anythi-"

"Harry," Draco said calmly, looking up at Harry, who's mouth dropped open. "I'm alright. Just a bit of a headache." Draco leaned his head back and rubbed his temples as Harry stood, watching.

"I could do that for you," Harry eventually mumbled. Draco looked at him with his brow furrowed. "Rub your head, I mean." Harry stood there, looking like a fifteen-year-old asking his crush about their day, hands in his pockets and shoulders tense. Draco nodded, feeling his cheeks flush lightly.

"Sure." Harry sat on one end of the couch and Draco laid down, laying his head on Harry's lap. Harry softly ran his course fingers through Draco's silky hair. He had kept the same cut he had in school but was more lenient with his gel usage now. Instead, he let his hair part in the middle and frame his face delicately. Harry thought it made his sharp features look softer and gave him a boyish charm he lacked during the war.

Draco sighed softly as Harry stroked his hair and let his eyes close. Harry admired his features while soothing him — his nose was straight and sharp, turning up ever so slightly at the end; his eyes almond-shaped and framed by ashy brown lashes that nearly kissed his sharp cheekbones; Harry had never noticed the light freckles that formed constellations across his cheeks; his lips were soft pink and parted slightly, letting out soft breaths as Harry moved his hands through his soft hair. Draco opened his eyes after a few minutes, gazing at Harry with soft grey eyes and his lips curling at the corners ever so slightly.

"Mmm," He hummed, closing his eyes again. "Feels good," He murmured, lolling his head to the side. They stayed like that as Draco lulled in and out of sleep until late in the evening. Harry gently shook Draco's shoulder.

"Malfoy..." He whispered. "Malfoy... Draco..." Draco groaned softly.

"What is it?" He instinctively reached to his wand holster and Harry giggled softly.

"It's late. You should go to bed," Harry murmured, smiling at the sleepy man. Draco slowly sat up, rubbing his head. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Harry grabbed Draco's wrist as he stood. Draco looked at Harry's hand on his wrist then to his face and smiles softly.

"Yeah, yeah, thank you, Harry." This time, Draco was more conscious of using his first name, letting it roll off his tongue slowly. Harry paused. It was odd to hear his name in Draco's mouth. It sounded softer than when Hermione would snap it or Ron call it. Draco made it sound almost like a song in a way Harry was unfamiliar with.

"Just, knock or wake me up," He paused, gazing into Draco's eyes. He never noticed the flecks of blue that danced around the pupil. "Draco." He added softly. Draco smiled and turned to walk away, feeling Harry's fingers slip off his wrist and brush past his own fingers.

Neither man slept that night, thoughts too occupied with the other. Draco couldn't stop thinking about the way Harry's fingers felt around his wrist and Harry couldn't stop hearing the way Draco practically sang his name. Regardless, Draco got up first, putting on a kettle and pouring the cat food, cuing Harry to come down the stairs. They exchanged few words that morning, opting for an awkward silence as they sipped their teas.

The rest of the week they continued as normal but plagued by a tense air between them. They both knew they had felt something the other night but neither could find the words to describe it, let alone discuss it. They exchanged a few more moments — hands brushing in the passing of a mug or book, eyes catching for a moment too long, blushes rising on their cheeks. But, by Friday, Harry had enough of the tension and wanted things to go back to normal.

"Drinks. Tonight," Harry muttered as soon as they got home. Draco was taken aback but Harry's sudden brashness but nodded anyway.

After studying for a few hours, Harry abruptly stood up and walked into the kitchen. Draco watched as Harry came back in with a bottle and two glasses.

"Potter?" Draco arched a brow as Harry poured. Harry tried to ignore the use of his last name and the pull it had in his stomach.

"Pres," Harry smirked, passing him a glass of golden liquid. Draco threw his head back, downing the drink in one gulp, before placing his book on the end table. Harry refilled the glasses after drinking his own. Both men hissed at the burn of the Firewhiskey.

"Pretty weak pres, Potter," Draco laughed. Harry rolled his eyes and held out his arm.

"Coming? I plan on getting fucked up tonight." Harry smirked, knowing Draco almost never refused a proper night out now. Draco rolled his eyes, letting Harry apparate them to Harry's favourite pub.

They spent a couple of hours at a few pubs getting properly pissed before going to a club. Draco didn't mind clubs if Harry stayed close to him. The club was packed when they got there, pressing them close together. Harry ordered them multiple rounds of shots when they arrived, making sure if they weren't already drunk off their arses, they were now. Draco felt almost all sense of elegance leave him as Harry pulled them to the dance floor. They danced, joining other groups throughout the night, even stumbling outside with a couple of attractive guys for a smoke, until the music faded and they were forced to leave. Stumbling home together, laughing and holding each other up, forgetting they could just apparate home, Harry sobered slightly in the cold London air. Draco, the lightweight he was, stayed as drunk as he was when they left.

After walking for forty-five minutes, Harry finally realised that one, it was cold and they were very far from home and two, he was a wizard. He stopped, causing Draco to nearly fall arse over tit before Harry caught him.

"Hey, Malfoy, we're going to apparate home?"

"Apparate?" Draco slurred. Harry nodded, taking his elbow and bringing them home.

Draco began stumbling the moment they landed and didn't stop until Harry dropped him on the couch.

"I'm gonna get you some water," Harry muttered, stroking a stray hair from Draco's face. He nodded slowly and closed his eyes. When Harry returned with the glass, Draco had slumped onto his side, giggling at nothing in particular. Harry sat down the glass, shaking his head and smiling to himself as he sat Draco back upright. "Drink," Harry handed him the glass.

"Yes sir!" Draco nodded before downing the water.

"Alright. Let's get you to bed." Harry gently pulled Draco up, wrapping his arm over his shoulders. "Come on you," Harry laughed as Draco groaned, heaving his body weight onto Harry. Granted he was quite thin and Harry could've easily just picked him up, but Draco just curled his arm around Harry's neck and leaned against him. They slowly made their way up the stairs, Draco laughing as he laid his head against Harry's shoulder, causing heat to rise to Harry's face. Just at the top of the stairs, Draco nuzzled his head against Harry's neck.

When they got to Draco's room, Harry gently sat him on his bed and noticed — Draco was still completely dressed. He cursed silently, realising he'd have to help the drunk man out of his clothes.

"Hey Malfoy, you're still dressed up but you've got to change before you can sleep," Harry explained. Draco nodded sleepily and held up his arms. Harry sighed deeply. 

He'd seen Draco mostly naked plenty of times, but something about undressing him felt different. Harry felt almost guilty when unbuttoning the light blue shirt but let out a sigh of relief noticing the white undershirt. Draco giggled as Harry pulled the shirt off his shoulders, wiggling to make it harder.

"Really Malfoy?" Harry tries not to smile but ultimately fails when seeing the joy on Draco's face. Draco watched him in his drunken stupor, his eyes cloudy.

"Yes, Potter," Draco enunciated before breaking into a fit of giggles. Harry shook his head, retrieving a pair of sweats and tossing them on the bed.

"Can you change your own trousers?" He tried to say with a straight face but ended up chucking at Draco drowsy nod. "Alright, I'll turn around." Harry listened as Draco clumsily changed into the sweats for collapsing back on the bed. "You alright now?" Draco nodded, adjusting himself on the bed. "Okay," Harry whispered and turned to leave.

"Stay?" Draco murmured as Harry reached the door. His face flushed as he vaguely remembered muttering something along the same lines to Draco a few weeks prior in his own drunken stupor. He turned back around and sat on the bed.

"Okay." Draco smiled, his eyes drooping shut, and reached out his arms, making a grabbing motion to Harry. Harry sighed and laid down next to him. He felt Draco's thin arms snake around his waist and pull him closer. _Just a few minutes, then I'll go to my own room,_ Harry thought to himself as he closed his eyes.

However, when he opened them again, the sun was streaming in through the window and he was met with the gentle snores from the man next to him. _Shit._ He tried to shift without waking Draco but realised his arm was wedged underneath him. _I'll just stay here then,_ he mentally grumbled before looking at Draco. The morning sunlight gave him a golden glow his skin normally lacked. His freckles stood out more in the sweet light and made his hair practically glow golden against the ruby red pillowcase. He looked like a perfect white-gold statue.

Draco stirred quietly, letting out a soft moan. Harry felt a blush creeping up his cheeks as Draco began waking up. His eyes fluttered open lightly. He looked at Harry and smiled before startling and shifting back on the bed.

"Merlin's beard Potter!" Harry jumped out and rubbed the back of his neck. "What the — fuck!" Draco groaned, holding his head. Foggy memories of the night before popped into his mind. He remembered the firewhiskey they shared before they went out, having a couple rounds at the first bar, a few rounds of shots at the second and something fruity at the club. He vaguely remembered stumbling home and Harry bring him up to his room and —

"I'll get you some water," Harry mumbled, fleeing the room. Draco racked his brain, trying to remember what happened at the club and afterwards. Loud music, bright lights, a body very close to his own that smelled like sweat and apples, the body taking his hand, going to the bar, another round of shots — a wave of nausea washed over him as he remembered the last round. Harry came back in the room with a glass, handing it to Draco.

"Thanks." He drank half of it while Harry stood awkwardly by the bed. Draco noted he was still wearing his jeans. _Well at least we're both dressed, that's a good sign._ "What happened last night?"

"We went to a couple pubs and the club—"

"I remember that much. What about at the club?"

"We had some shots, danced, met a couple of blokes. One of them was pretty into you I'd say," Harry chuckled. Draco blushed and drank the rest of the water.

"Really?"

"Well yeah, the way you two were dancing—" Draco choked. _Fuck_. Harry rubbed his back and watched Draco carefully. "You alright?"

"I just— right. Forgot about that. I should, uh, probably tell you something." Draco looked anywhere but Harry's face.

"What is it?" Harry sat on the bed next to Draco.

"I'm..." Draco took a deep breath. "I'm gay."

"Hey, that's okay." Draco's gaze shot up to Harry's face. He wasn't sure what he was expecting — surprise, maybe even for him to jump back or leave. "Really. Look, I'm bisexual." Harry laughed.

"Really?" Draco's jaw dropped. He had only ever seen Harry with girls but then, as he thought about the lingering glances he'd caught Harry stealing at blokes throughout the years, he also wasn't entirely surprised. He was more in shock that Harry could potentially reciprocate the slight feelings he was just coming to terms with it.

"Yes. I figured it out fourth year when I realised the reason I was annoyed about Cho and Cedric going to the Yule Ball together was that I was attracted to Cedric, not Cho." Harry was smiling and laughing at words coming out of his mouth.

"Wait really?" Draco paused. "He was pretty cute."

"Yeah." Harry nodded sadly. They stayed there for a few minutes, Draco staring at his hands and Harry staring at the wall. Eventually, Harry looked up at Draco, smiled lightly and bumped his shoulder with his own.

"Let's get some breakfast, alright?" Draco followed Harry downstairs a few minutes later to find him making pancakes. Draco sat at the table and just watched Harry cook. Harry always amazed Draco with the arsenal of classic rock songs he had memorised that he'd sing and bop to when he cooked and this morning was no different. Harry was swaying his hips and mixing pancake batter. Mittens weaved in between his feet, purring lightly, and Draco, despite a throbbing headache, overall aching body and slight terror of whatever happened when he blacked out the night before, he felt incredibly at peace and filled with warmth.

"Chocolate chip?" Harry glanced over his shoulder with a lazy smile. Draco nodded and moved to fill Mitten's bowls. The room that had been so tense for the past week finally felt comfortable again. They stood next to each other, Harry stirring the batter and Draco filling Mitten's food bowl, and shared a brief glance of unspoken words. Harry smiled, dazed, and Draco felt his insides melt at the sight of him.

Breakfast went by peaceful, and Draco was thankful for the pancakes curing his hangover. They moved throughout the day lazily, neither bothering to change out of their sweats. Shortly after breakfast, and deciding not to do the dishes, Harry put on a record — Frank Sinatra's Songs For Young Lovers — and dropped onto his sofa, humming along to the soft jazz. Draco joined him shortly after, with a mug of tea, on his own sofa, Mittens curling up in his lap. Harry laid back, hands tucked beneath his head and Draco watched, no longer worried that the dark-haired boy would catch his stolen glances. Eventually, Harry began singing along to the fourth track, Like Someone In Love.

"Lately, I find myself out gazing at stars, hearing guitars, like someone in love," He murmured along. Draco felt his breath hitch listening to Harry. His voice was softer than when he would dramatically sing to ballads; it was rough, deep and gravelly, contrasting sweetly with Sinatra's smooth as honey vibrato. Draco couldn't help but be entirely mesmerised by Harry's lips as he sang, the way they shaped around each vowel. Draco let his head loll to the side as he lazily petted Mittens and watched Harry. "Sometimes the things I do astound me, mostly whenever you're around me." Draco smiled lazily as Mittens purred in his lap. 

"How do you know the song so well?" He eventually murmured during a pause in the song.

"You play the album all the time, it's one of your favourites. Just picked it up," Harry laughed before continuing singing. Draco flushed, realising he was the reason Harry knew the song so well.

"Each time I look at you I'm limp as a glove," Harry sang softly, turning his head just enough to meet Draco's eyes. "And feeling like someone in love." Draco flushed even darker, even the tips of his ears turning pink at Harry's dreamy smile. The record slowed to a stop, light static buzzing from the speakers, but neither man moved for a moment. 

"The record?" Harry whispered, his dreamy smile still plastered on his face. Draco coughed.

"Mm, what?" Draco mumbled, cursing how red his face must be by now.

"You're closer," Harry laughed lightly, nodding towards the record player.

"Right. I'll turn it." He fumbled his way through flipping the record over and starting the music again. "I'm getting some water." He quickly left the lounge, practically running to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass but opted to splash water on his face first, hoping to cool himself down. Draco filled the glass and quickly downed it. 

"You alright?" Harry asked from the doorway, causing Draco to jump and swear under his breath.

"Yeah," He said over his shoulder. "I'm good." Draco placed his hands on the edge of the counter and took a deep breath. Harry quietly walked up behind Draco.

"Draco," He whispered. Harry gently placed his hand on Draco's shoulder, taken aback by the tenseness Draco held. "Hey." He cautiously pulled Draco to face him. Draco's cheeks were still flushed slightly and a few drops of water resided along his hairline. His brows were pulled together and mouth tight. Harry stared into his eyes, trying to figure out what made Draco suddenly uneasy. "What's wrong?" Draco stared back indelicately, his eyes steely and searching. Grey met green and, in that split second, Draco made a decision.

In one swift motion, Draco took Harry's face in his hands and brought their lips together. His nose bumped Harry's glasses and their teeth nearly clashed together. Harry froze for a moment, his hand still on Draco's shoulder, eyes wide open, before gripping his shoulder tighter and closing his eyes. Their lips were still sweet from that morning's breakfast, and Harry could taste the honey from Draco's tea. Draco breathed in deeply and recognized the scent of apples from the night before — Harry's shampoo. Harry's stubble was rough in his hands and against his face. Harry revelled in how soft Draco's lips were, and the delicate scent of his cologne flooded his senses. 

They breathed out simultaneously before Draco slowly pulled away. The moment their lips broke apart, a paralysing fear overtook Draco. He kept his eyes shut tightly and slowly lowered his arms from Harry's face to his sides, regret washing over him as he longed for the touch again. The silence between them felt deafening.

Harry opened his eyes the moment their lips parted, his mouth opened slightly and lungs straining to breathe again. He kept his grip on Draco's shoulder, watching as the blonde slowly removed himself from Harry, refusing to open his eyes. Harry couldn't decide if he wanted to pull Draco back to him and never let go or drink a whole bottle of whiskey before confronting the situation.

"Draco," Harry decided to whisper. Draco inhaled deeply before slowly opening his eyes. He wasn't sure what he was expecting — anger, surprise, fear, rejection — but what he met was what he could only describe as anxious curiosity. Harry carefully slid his hand from Draco's shoulder, up his neck, to rest at the base of his jaw, afraid that if he moved too fast, he might startle Draco. Draco remained frozen, relishing Harry's touch for what he was nearly sure would be the last time. "Draco, I..." Harry's train of thought left him completely when he glanced down to Draco's lips for a split second.

This time Harry crashed into Draco, nearly knocking Draco back before he wrapped his free arm around Draco's waist, drawing them closer. Draco tentatively placed his hands on Harry's waist as Harry deepened the kiss slightly. Draco's breath wavered at the unexpected reciprocation before he mustered the courage to run his hands up Harry's chest. This time when Harry pulled away, he kept Draco's face close. Their breaths mingled as they slowly opened their eyes, meeting each other's gaze.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," Harry breathed. A breathy laugh escaped Draco.

"Really?"

"You never noticed?" Harry chuckled, pulling back enough to look Draco in the eye.

"What do you mean?" Draco's cheeks heated up as Harry smirked.

"Lingering touches or glances? Or maybe how flirty I get when I drink?" Harry teased lightly.

"I should have noticed, shouldn't I?" Draco groaned with a wide smile.

"I won't hold it against you." Harry laughed, leaning his head against Draco's.

"Glad to hear it." They held each other for a moment in silence. "Why'd you wait so long?"

"I didn't even know if you were into blokes. I didn't want to ruin our relationship. Then we'd have to go to the Ministry and apply for new partners, and one of us would've had to move out. Merlin, imagine the custody battle over Mittens! It would be horrendous!" Harry exclaimed dramatically. Draco held back his laughter at Harry's theatrics.

"You're ridiculous," Draco smiled.

"You love it."

"Something like that." The rest of that weekend melted away in soft kisses and takeaway, the two men blissfully aware of each other, exploring the new relationship budding between them.


End file.
